


Wasted Time

by kuroi_atropos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BAMF Arthur, BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF Merlin, BAMF everyone, M/M, Motivated!Harry, Multi, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Wizarding Politics, Wizarding Traditions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 05:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12698820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroi_atropos/pseuds/kuroi_atropos
Summary: In a world where a well known sacrifice by Merlin at King Arthur’s deathbed allowed those with Magic to find their soulmates, Harry Potter meets his in the equally famous Viktor Krum. Harry should have known that with his luck, however, their meeting would lead to yet another way to almost get himself killed. Still he didn't think anyone could blame him for not guessing the part about actually waking an only mostly dead King Arthur from his spelled sleep and unleashing Merlin himself on the Wizarding World in recompense.





	Wasted Time

Viktor sighed as he deftly maneuvered the hallway crowded with rather persistent fans with passes to the non-public areas of the World Cup Stadium. He understood in theory that those were an important revenue source, however they did tend to make people feel entitled. On more than one occasion a few overzealous fans with those things had even tried to follow him into the changing room! 

The seeker breathed a sigh of relief as he entered the staging room where the rest of the team had gathered. He’d yet again successfully reached the safety of one of the rooms he knew no one unauthorized could enter. Sitting down, he ran his hands over his Firebolt, checking for any last minute fractures or weaknesses in the spells when Alexei clapped him on the back with a laugh and they all mounted their brooms. 

It was as he was making their initial loop around the stadium that his eyes, for one brief half second, met the startling green eyes of a boy in the top box and his vision was washed out in a haze of gold and he heard the Old Magic spell that every witch and wizard around the world hoped to hear.

He felt gravity take hold as the world went dark around him. 

XxXxX

Victor struggled awake to the sound of loud arguing, with a dull roar in the background. He blinked up at the field Healer that was arguing with his Captain Vasily and the referee. Even in his wildest dreams, he had never quite imagined meeting his soulmate in such a dramatic fashion. “Къде е той?” he asked, the fading lines of the ancient spell echoing in his head. He had to see this boy who was now to be such an intrinsic part of his life. 

Everyone’s gaze suddenly dropped down to him and the Healer shoved his wand in Viktor’s face, running what Viktor recognized as an English diagnostic spell and not the exact location of his new, soulmate, love, boyfriend? They would have to decide later. Since his Captain looked to be struggling at forming words and the Healer was no help, he tried again in English with a more pointed glare at the referee, “Vhere is he? The green eyed boy?”

“Mr. Krum,” the referee started, a little hesitant and obviously a bit put out at the unusual start to the game. “I understand from what the Healer states, that the reason you fell unconscious is that you spotted your soulmate. Given that the game hasn’t started-” Viktor promptly tuned him out as his brain caught up with things. 

He fell from his broom. 

As if that wasn’t bad enough it was at the Quidditch World Cup in front of his soulmate…. 

He’d been training for months, years even, and now at one of the penultimate games of his career in front of the eyes of the world he fell from his broom. 

How..... embarrassing.

“Do you feel well enough to continue the match?” The Healer interrupted his thoughts and Viktor glanced up and looked around again. The crowd in the stadium looked exceedingly rowdy behind the shields, a large portion focused on the top box where his new soulmate was based on where Viktor remembered being when the haze took over.

Oh for the love of magic… 

How could this happen to him today of all days? Two of the most amazing things that could happen and he was too rushed and distracted to take the joy he should in either of them! Even the unexpectedness of finding his soulmate was something that was promptly taking a back seat to finding him amidst reporters and the fact that the referee was getting impatient in his fluster at the interruption and he could feel the crowd seething in muted anticipation. 

He pushed the Healer out of his way and leapt to his feet, looking for his broom, and found Dolohov holding onto three brooms, one of which was Viktor’s. He held out his hand and his broom snapped over to him. He was in the air before he could really register it, and he vaguely heard the referee telling his Captain he had five minutes as he quickly rose up to the box. He dropped off the broom as close as he could to the walkway outside the box and was grateful at least for the security keeping the pressing crowd away from him even if they couldn’t stop all of the flashbulb spells. 

He burst into the top box and found himself met with what was frankly pandemonium. A wall of redheads blocked the corner of the box he felt himself drawn to, with the oldest man, most likely the patriarch of the clan from what he could see, arguing with a man in a bowler hat that he vaguely recognized as the British Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and a cold looking blonde. 

Almost as soon as he entered the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, Dimitar Oblansk rushed towards him with a pinched look on his face. “Mr. Krum, please wait just a moment,” the man said in English even as Viktor strained to see over his shoulder towards the group of redheads, but the Minister was slightly taller than him and wasn’t afraid to get in his way. 

The British Minister’s head snapped over, and his mouth opened in shock at Minister Oblansk, and he spluttered something about speaking English that Viktor honestly couldn’t be bothered to catch more than the gist of. 

“Ron, Hermione, I AM FINE now please let me up!” A loud voice came over the arguing, silencing most of the box and Viktor smirked a little at the first sound of his soulmates voice. A few people shifted and whatever half formed words he had thought of died as he took in the sight of the person that legend claimed would be his heart. Messy black hair topped a thin, pale face, the highlight of which were startling grass green eyes that were staring widely at him framed by thick black lashes and a pair of truly horrid glasses. He was reedy, swamped in oversized clothes that frankly did little for him besides making him look even smaller than he already seemed to be. He also appeared even younger than Viktor had initially thought, and he could suddenly understand Minister Oblansk's apprehension. Compared to Viktor’s intimidating form and naturally gruff continence which made him look older than his years, this boy looked impossibly fragile. 

“Viktor!” His Captain, Vasily, grabbed his arm even as he quickly glanced between the seeker and his soulmate, his warm brown eyes calculating. “I hate to rush everyone, but the referee only gave us five minutes. Are you alright to fly in the game, or should we bring in Natalia?” Viktor scowled at his Team Captain over his shoulder, but he never moved his eyes from the boy’s face even as Minister Oblansk suddenly looked dismayed at the thought of his country’s star seeker not playing in the game. 

The green eyed boy shook his head. 

“Go.” Viktor snapped back to fully face the boy and blinked. “Seriously, it’s not like I am going anywhere and if your team is anything like mine, they’d never let you live it down if you didn’t play just to talk to someone who’s going to be there at the end of the match.” He was pretty sure he heard the two identical redheads mutter an agreement only to be smacked over the heads by one of the older ones next to them. 

“Great! He’ll catch the snitch for you, kid,” Vasily said with a rush then grabbed Viktor’s shoulder and dragged him out of the box so they could launch off even as he heard the boy laugh behind them.

So, he had a team and played Quidditch. Victor could work with that. Of course his soulmate would have the same passion for the game, right? Though those redheads all seemed very protective and Viktor would have to step carefully with them given the apparent age difference. It would not do at all to insult such loyal friends. 

“Viktor!” His eyes snapped to Vasily as his Captain smirked at him. “Pay attention to the game, I am sure your soulmate would be disappointed if you didn’t catch him the snitch like I said you would because you were daydreaming.”

He was half tempted to fly over and hit Vasily but by then they had reached the scrimmage line. Once they were all lined up, the referee glanced at him once before he started the pre-game spiel. Then with a whistle, the ref launched the balls into the air and everyone scattered. The game was fast paced enough that Viktor could only spare occasional glances at the top box and the boy who had his arms crossed, leaning on the railing, eyes trailing after him—occasionally with a pair of omnoculers—pretty much ignoring the arguing between all the adults that Viktor could see happening behind him in the box, which had nearly as many cameras trained on it as the field did now. 

Viktor scowled as he heard the Irish side cheering as their team scored again. If it kept up this way, Viktor catching the snitch wouldn’t be enough to win them the game. He scanned the field for what seemed like the hundredth time, willing the tiny ball to make an appearance. He finally caught sight of it after what seemed like both moments and an eternity later. Throwing his broom into a dive almost straight down, he reached out to catch it and his hand slipped around the smooth, golden ball. It still wasn’t enough though. The Irish Team had won by ten points, although he couldn’t bring himself to care much in light of the life changing event that had his attention now that the game had ended. With hardly a moment’s pause, he veered to the left and shot up to the top box. His team seemed amused enough at his unusual behavior that it lessened the sting of loss just a little. 

Though they beat the still showboating Irish team to the top box his team hung back a bit, elbowing each other and smirking as Viktor shuffled awkwardly forwards. He had never been too graceful on the ground, and now that he was past his initial panic over making sure he located his soulmate, he actually wanted to make a good impression so he felt that awkwardness more than ever. Luckily his team, led by a wryly amused Vasily and quietly chortling Alexei, were positioning themselves to get in the way of the reporters shots as they messed with their gear. Their support as Viktor made his way to the group that had fully bracketed his newly found soulmate, the three oldest young men already on their feet in his path even as the youngest boy and the two girls held tight to the black haired boy was greatly appreciated. 

Intellectually Viktor knew it was a good thing that the boy had people willing to protect him. There were always stories of large age differences, or variances in wealth causing issues for any relationship, even soulmates, so their defense of the boy made sense as in this case there appeared to be both. Emotionally he was still unbalanced, not sure whether to be mad at the thought of someone coming between his soulmate and him, anxious at possibly intimidating his soulmate, defensive that his honor was being questioned, and a hundred other things. 

Viktor’s indecision on exactly how to proceed left him and the three older ones were in an uncomfortable stare down even as he heard the arguing behind the boy between the Ministers, the boy’s apparent guardian, and the various attendants escalated to a point even Viktor had to break his stare down. The cameras were going absolutely mad, and it almost looked like things between the red haired man and the long haired blonde man would come to blows until the entire tableau was broken by the Irish team coming into collect the Cup, their Seeker supported between two of their other team members. 

Viktor gave a scowl as he turned to pay attention to the puffed up man in ancient black and yellow Quidditch robes who was quickly stepping forward with a strained smile, holding the trophy. Viktor slid back to position with his team, shifting to present a more solid front with his team. As much as Viktor wanted to get back to staring down the older redheads for the right to prove himself to his new soulmate, however he ended up doing that, he honestly did not want to cause too much commotion that would take away from the victory the other team unfortunately rightly deserved.

The award ceremony was thankfully short, and the Irish took to their victory exuberantly.

Still, the match had ended on Viktor’s terms, he thought when the snitch fluttered in his clenched hand. Viktor had taken a full sweep victory from them with the prize that he was now aching to present to his soulmate who had yet to look away from him, even with the award ceremony happening so near to him. 

When all of the official stuff was over and the Irish team left the box with the cup held high there still seemed to be a rather huge portion of the crowd glued to watching. After eyeing his team, who were still doing a good job of masking their disappointment by staring at him amusedly, Viktor turned his full attention back to the boy who had carefully, almost hesitantly, pushed one of the older redheads out of his way and stepped up to Viktor, holding out his hand. “Hi, I’m Harry.” Viktor carefully grasped the boys smaller hand, and managed a smile. They did little for his looks truthfully, but perhaps it would make him seem at least a little less intimidating to the boys guardians who were eyeing him with hands on their wands.

“Viktor," he replied lightly, though it was likely that Harry knew who he was. The boy smiled brightly and his fingers twitched a bit in his own, so he marked that as a win.

“Nice to meet you, Viktor.” 

“For you,” he carefully presented the snitch to his Harry with his free hand and the boy smiled even more brightly as he plucked the golden ball from Viktor's fingers before clutching it tightly.

They stayed there holding each other’s hands while meeting eyes that it seemed an eternity. Finally a hesitant cough came from the crowd behind the boy, who jumped a little and promptly blushed in a horribly adorable manner and turned to look behind him even if he didn’t drop Viktor’s hand. 

"How about we move this somewhere private boys? The last thing you need is to have much more happen in front of the cameras,” the eldest redhead said with a smile, his kind face setting Viktor at a bit more at ease than the still tense looks from his sons.

“Right Mr. Weasley, thank you,” Viktor nodded along with Harry's agreement. He had figured that the redheads weren’t direct blood family, and this confirmed it, the formal address meaning it wasn't even likely that the man was blood family – maybe a Godparent? 

“Viktor, are your parents here, can we have them meet us somewhere?” Mr. Weasley asked, as he turned to look around the top box.

“Niet, my Father had to go to Shanghai and my Mother got called back to assist emergency treatment. Vasily acts as my guardian for them.” Not that he would need it for longer, 

“That would be me,” Vasily smiled his best press smile as he stepped up to the group, offering his hand to Mr. Weasley who shook it warmly. “We can do this in our locker rooms. They are warded against prying eyes.” 

“Perfect, I wasn’t quite sure our tents would hold up to the scrutiny. Speaking of - Bill, Charlie, wrangle the rest of this lot back to the tents,” the man raised a hand sharply and the younger ones all snapped their mouths shut from where they’d been about to argue. “Do whatever you need within reason to keep the press and anyone not family out. You’d better hurry, quite a few people already know where Harry is staying and this will just make it worse.” 

“Right, Dad,” the redhead with the fang earring said, then looked at the one with some wicked looking burn scars on his arms who nodded. “I’ll go ahead and make sure the tents are safe.” The young man then leaped over the side of the top box.

Viktor wasn’t the only one not quite sure how to react when Mr. Weasley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Charlie, take your siblings and Hermione down in a more normal way please.” Viktor wondered just what type of extended family he had ended up with that this was the reaction to jumping off the side of a stadium without a broom. The older man turned to his Captain who was now staring wide eyed at his soulmate as the Bulgarian Minister hurriedly whispered in his ear and the man sighed again. “Vasily, after you. Harry, stick close to me and don’t let anyone try to separate us.” 

“Really Arthur, I hardly think that this level of concern is necessary. I am sure that if we just had the boys pose for a few photographs-”

“Cornelius, I’m Harry’s guardian while we are here. Harry gets accosted while shopping, as I am sure Mr. Krum does as well. I am sure that you can understand needing to control the press with this.” The redheaded man who was apparently on first name basis with the Minister of Magic interjected before turning back to Vasily, “please lead the way.” 

Viktor was about to question why his love got ‘accosted’ while shopping but decided to save it for later at a sharp look from Vasily as his Captain quickly waved the team ahead down the stairs giving the guards warning and they quickly tightened up on the stairway down and the path to the locker rooms. Vasily clasped an arm over his shoulder, mimicking Mr. Weasley and Harry even as the two boys kept their hands clasped tightly together as they made a dash for privacy.

XxXxX

Once they reached the seclusion of the locker rooms, Vasily quickly ushered Mr. Weasley, the Ministers and the few other tag-alongs into his Captain’s Office before summarily dragging Viktor away from his soulmate stating that they needed to shower before they could discuss the situation civilly. 

It was only then that Viktor realized he reeked with sweat and was about to blush horribly before Harry laughed and Viktor was kind of high on that as he was lead dazedly to the showers. 

“Viktor,” he turned to Vasily even as he stripped off his Jersey to dive into a stall with the intention of taking one of the fastest showers of his life. “Have you realized who he is?” Viktor blinked at him and Vasily sighed, poking him on the forehead. “I need you see past that haze in your head for the next bit, Viktor. This is important.” He scowled at his Captain. “Harry is Harry Potter. As in the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter.”

Viktor stared at Vasily, not quite hearing and then it slammed into him with a sledgehammer and he dropped to the bench next to his locker stunned. While Bulgaria had only faced the periphery of the last English War, they were well aware of the only person to ever survive the Avada Kevadra, a curse which had claimed its fair share of victims, not the least of which during the war against Grindelwald. It made sense suddenly why people were so incised over not just him but the other boy and Viktor scowled as he thought back to how enthused the British Minister had seemed at the opportunity to throw Harry in front of the camera. 

Harry had had an expression on his face at that that Viktor couldn’t quite place. Some combination of resignation, sadness? Maybe? 

It was like Harry expected it, and hadn’t really anticipated anything else. 

He’d have to take care of the Minister then. 

No matter how this played out, no matter if their relationship grew to be something romantic or platonic or what have you, it was theirs. They were too famous for parts of it to not be known, but that didn’t include parading it around. 

Viktor stood and quickly finished stripping. His fast shower would need to go even faster.


End file.
